


My Head Hurts (and so does my heart)

by JustinTimberlake



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustinTimberlake/pseuds/JustinTimberlake
Summary: Prompt: Winks gets tackled in a match and takes a nasty fall. He's concussed and has to stay with a teammate for a few nights while he recovers. He stays with Eric Dier and Eric has to take care of him. Winks doesn't mind though, because he has the biggest crush on Eric. Cue eventual soft kisses and sharing a bed and Eric being cute and protective.(With added Dele + Harry!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dierdele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dierdele/gifts).



> This is all for @dierdele but I hope everyone else likes it too!! Eric & Winks are adorable and you can't change my mind. Shoutout to Cisco who got a much bigger role in this fic than I ever anticipated.

It’s so loud.

The voices, the incessant beeping noise, the person coughing from the other side of the room, and most of all, his  _ head.  _ His head is throbbing. Every thirty seconds, he’s hit with another wave of dull pain that just makes all the noise even worse. He tries his hardest to ignore all the loud noise and get back to sleep, because he’s so painfully tired and he just wants to go back to his dreams, away from the pain and the noise. He feels someone holding his hand, and he tries to focus on the comforting warmth of that to help him fall back to sleep.

One particularly sharp throb of pain, though, is so piercing that he can’t help but groan aloud, and blink himself fully awake. The voices get a little louder, and he can barely pick them apart, but as his eyes adjust to the bright lights of the hospital room, he starts to realise who is talking to him.

Dele is the one who is holding his hand, and he squeezes it comfortingly. 

Harry Kane is stood on the other side of the room. He must’ve been the one who was coughing earlier. He walks over now that Harry is awake, and starts asking him softly how he is feeling.

There’s a nurse there, too, who is fiddling with something in his arm. She does something that sends a little tremor of pain up his arm, but it’s soon followed by a sense of relief too as his pain subsides just a little. 

As the nurse says something and walks out of the room, Harry turns his head to the right to see who else is in the room with him. . 

It’s Eric.

Eric is sitting on the chair next to his bed. When he notices Harry’s attention on him, he presses his lips into a small smile.

“You doing okay, Winksy? You took a nasty fall.”

It takes all of his concentration and strength to nod slowly. He’s doing okay. And he remembers the fall. He sort of remembers being knocked over, if he’s completely honest, and losing his footing. He remembers both his feet being off the ground, and he remembers when he started falling he had tried to twist himself around so he didn’t land on his head. He guessed he hadn’t really been successful, if the fact he’s in hospital is anything to go by. That and the fact his head feels around ten sizes too big. 

“My head feels big,” He blurts, and he watches Eric’s reaction with fascination. Eric’s face falters, and he laughs. His face lights up when he laughs. It makes him look so handsome. He wonders if Eric knows that.

He hears more laughs too, and someone - he thinks it’s Dele - mumbles something about a small head. He looks over at Dele, then at Harry. He thinks he moves his head a little too fast, because he has to close his eyes tightly at the sudden wave of pain that crashes against his skull.

When he opens his eyes, Harry is right in front of him, looking concerned.

“I think one of us needs to look after you,” he says, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“I could look after him,” Dele suggests from his left, and Harry hums in agreement before he offers to look after him too, saying that they could both go back to his house with him. 

His head is still hurting, but the prospect of going to Harry Kane’s house with him and Dele does make him perk up just a little bit. That is, until Eric also speaks up.

“I’ll take care of him,” Eric says suddenly, and Harry can’t help himself but whip his head around again. He presses his lips together tightly to try and mask how much it hurt him. “If that’s alright, Winksy.”

Harry blinks at him for a long minute before he remembers that he has to respond. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, and inadequately, but the smile stretching his face is probably more of an answer than his words anyway.

It would have been lovely to go to home with Harry and Dele. But he’s over the moon that Eric has offered to look after him too. He’s had a crush on Eric for far too long. It’s gone on for so long now that it’s become sort of a private joke between him and Dele. For about a year now they have been getting together more and more frequently to gossip about their crushes - Harry’s crush on Eric and Dele’s crush on the other Harry - and Dele always tells him that he thinks Eric likes him back. Winks never believes it. It is nice, though, more than nice, that Eric cares about him enough to want to look after him. It makes him feel warm inside. 

He hears Harry and Dele talk a little to Eric, asking him if he’s sure and Dele hands Eric a little duffle bag, but he’s mostly just looking at Eric and thinking about how nice it is for Eric to offer to look after him. Eric must be a really busy man, with a busy life and cool things he could be doing, but he’s choosing to take Harry home and look after him.  _ Eric’s so lovely,  _ he thinks to himself,  _ he’s so nice.  _ The way Eric immediately looks at him as soon as he’s thought it is odd, especially the way that both Dele and Harry fall silent and look at him too, but Winks doesn’t read too much into that. He just smiles up at Eric until Eric gives him an uncertain smile back. 

He notices Dele and Harry leave in a sort of blur, even as they hug him and talk to him and tell him to text them and keep them updated. It’s even blurry when they leave, as Eric talks to the nurse for a few minutes and starts to unzip the little duffle bag Dele brought with him. Harry looks at the bag for a good minute or so before he has a startling realisation.

“That’s my bag,” he announces. “It’s my sleepover bag. I left it at Dele’s.” 

Eric looks at him, and he looks like he might roll his eyes but his expression suddenly softens.

“You’re right, Winksy. Dele brought it for you.” 

Eric smiles, and pulls something out of the bag. Harry just about manages to refrain from exclaiming in excitement when Eric pulls out his favourite pyjamas, but he does grin widely over at him and hold his hands out so that he can reach them. 

He struggles momentarily trying to figure out how to put them on while sat down, and eventually he decides to just stand up because it will be much easier. It turns out that’s much easier said than done, and as soon as Winks gets one unsteady foot on the ground he tumbles over and back into bed again. He only just manages to not hit his head against the headboard because Eric catches him just in time. 

Harry frowns up at him. He wants his pyjamas on instead of this cheap hospital gown. They’re his favourites. They’re navy and they have little white sharks and whales decorating them all over, and they’re so soft and warm. 

“I want to wear my Sharkies,” he says sadly, eyes wide. “Please help me.”

Eric hesitates, but eventually he nods. 

“Okay Winks,” he says in the softest voice Harry has ever heard from him, “Let’s get you into your Sharkies and get you to a nice warm bed. Okay?”

Harry nods gratefully, and carefully follows Eric’s instructions to step into each leg of the pants and holds onto Eric tightly as he uses his other hand to pull them up around his hips. When he lets go so that he can lift the hospital gown over his head, he stumbles back a little, and Eric holds his arm in a warm, steady grip. He takes over, lifting the gown over Harry’s head and helping him to pull his pyjama top on. He even helps him with his arms when he gets stuck. 

Harry thinks again about how  _ nice _ Eric is, and how lovely he is being, and then, when Eric’s face gets a little pink, how nice he looks like that. Again, Eric looks at him as if he knows what Harry is thinking, and Harry wonders if he can read minds. Maybe he’s a superhero. Or a wizard.

“Aren’t you meant to be the wizard, Harry?” Eric laughs, and Harry is completely startled. 

Eric really can read minds. He tries to digest that information slowly as Eric signs some forms but by the time Eric is leading him out of the hospital, walking him carefully to his car, he’s already forgotten what has just happened.

He’s just so tired. 

He barely registers what’s happening as Eric bundles him into his passenger seat, but he takes Eric’s hoodie from him gratefully and bundles it up like a cushion, leaning against the car window.

“Goodnight,” he mumbles, sound almost lost by the engine starting up. “Sweet dreams.”

He thinks he hears Eric wish him a goodnight too, but he can’t be sure. He’s already fast asleep by the time they make it out of the car park. 

\--

When Harry wakes up again, he’s still a little disoriented, and his head is definitely still hurting, but he feels much more like himself. He’s in a comfier bed, he’s in his pyjamas, and he doesn’t feel that sort of dizzy sense of bewilderment that comes with being a little spaced out. 

He looks around him, trying to figure out exactly where he is. The first thing he notices is probably the biggest giveaway of them all: a book that seems to be written entirely in Portuguese, but the subsequent sighting of a Philadelphia Eagles jersey and of two massive dog beds in the corner only confirm his suspicions. He’s in Eric’s room. 

As he comes to this realisation, he also starts to remember the previous day in bits and pieces, and realises that it makes sense that he is here. Eric volunteered to look after him. Harry smiles to himself. Eric wanted to look after him. Even after Dele and Harry had already offered. He’s not even embarrassed that he’s immediately put into a great mood after he wraps his head around that. He is a little embarrassed when he half-remembers Eric dressing him, and he’s more than a little embarrassed when he starts to figure out that Eric can’t read minds, but that Harry was just saying Eric was lovely and looked nice  _ out loud,  _ but he tries his best to put that t the back of his mind and focus on the positive. He’s in Eric’s bed, Eric wants to look after him, and he’s feeling a little better already than he was yesterday. All in all, he’s feeling pretty good.

He wants to stay in the bedroom a little longer so that he can fully rid himself of any lingering embarrassment, but he’s far too thirsty for his body to allow him to do that, so he gingerly lifts himself out of bed, remembering just how unsteady he was the day before, and slowly makes his way out of the room and into the kitchen. 

He shivers a little when his bare feet touch the cold tiles on the kitchen floor. He never goes to sleep without slipper socks, but he supposes he can’t really blame Eric for not knowing about that. He just hopes that Dele packed him some so that he can pull them on when he goes back to Eric’s room, or that Eric won’t mind him borrowing some. He hates his feet being cold. 

He opens a few cupboard doors until he eventually finds the one with the glasses, then he shuffles back to the fridge so that he can use Eric’s fancy water dispenser. Just because he  _ can,  _ he adds a few ice cubes at first, then a bit of crushed ice, then another cube before he even selects the “Water” option and starts pouring himself a glass. When it’s ready, he brings the glass to his lips and starts to turn around, figuring he’ll drink it as he walks. 

“Morning,” he hears from behind him, and he’s so startled that he whirls around, dropping the glass as he instinctively lifts his arm to cover his head. 

He hears the glass shatter and slowly lets his arms drop. Eric is standing in front of him, open-mouthed. Harry stares at him for a second, then it hits him. He’s so stupid. He’s broken Eric’s glass all because Eric said  _ Good Morning  _ to him. After Eric was nice enough to let him stay, Harry had helped himself to a glass from Eric’s kitchen and broken it. 

“I’m so sorry, Eric.” He feels awful. He immediately bends down to try and pick up some of the shards of glass, and mutters it again: “I’m so sorry.”

The sudden motion is a little too much for his still sensitive head, and he sways a little bit from where he is crouched on his knees. He tries to get himself together and start focusing on picking up the glass, but Eric stops him. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eric says, grabbing his arms and pulling at him gently, helping him up. “Don’t you do that. You just go and get yourself comfy on the sofa, okay? Put something on the TV for us, and I’ll make breakfast. Okay?” 

All Harry can do is nod, and he can’t look Eric in the eye. He feels so embarrassed. He’s such an awful house guest. It’s just even worse that it’s  _ Eric.  _ If it were Dele, he’d feel bad but they’d joke about it within a second. It’s Eric, though, and Harry is a lot more unsure of how Eric will take it. He’s sure he’s not going to be too angry, but he is just worried that Eric will think he’s stupid and childish. 

He knows he’s not making it any better for himself when he chooses to watch Spongebob Squarepants, but he’s feeling a little down and that always cheers him up. His mum always used to treat him when he was off sick from school with a Spongebob day, and he still sort of equates Spongebob to that comforting feeling of being looked after and fussed over, so it always makes him feel better when he’s feeling sick or sad or lonely. 

The episode is almost over when Eric comes back in, holding a tray laden with two plates of eggs and toast and two cups of tea, as well as a pack of ibuprofen and a pack of paracetamol. 

“I’ve looked it up, and apparently you can have two of each and that helps. Well. I say I looked it up, but what really happened is H told me three times and nagged at me until I showed him my little stockpile of drugs for you,” Eric laughs. “But I’m willing to take the credit regardless.”

Harry smiles and mumbles a quiet thanks, but still doesn’t look Eric in the eye. He can’t. He eyes the cup of tea a little nervously, knowing that he hates tea unless it has three sugars at least. No one ever puts that much sugar in, either, because it’s not really that acceptable to drink tea that sugary. He is thirsty, though, so he sips at it carefully. He widens his eyes in surprise. It’s super sweet, just the way he likes it. He can’t help but look up at Eric, lips starting to form around the question.

“You seem the type,” Eric interrupts him with a smirk. 

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he just blushes and shrugs, and thanks Eric again. He picks up the toast that Eric has cut into little soldiers for him, dipping them into the yolk carefully. He can’t help but smile. That’s another thing that his mum used to do for him too. He re-focuses his attention on Spongebob, and tries to ignore all the concerned looks Eric keeps shooting his way. Eric eventually lets up and looks back at the screen too.

“You’re so cute, Winks,” Eric says, and Harry looks at him with wide eyes. His heart starts to beat a little faster in his chest at the idea that Eric thinks he’s cute, but Harry doesn’t miss the teasing glint in Eric’s eye. And he certainly doesn’t miss the way Eric follows it up. “Sat here, watching Spongebob in your Sharkies.” 

Oh no.

Harry did not remember telling Eric that he called them his  _ Sharkies.  _ He can feel the blush creeping up his neck, and can feel the way his lips turn up into a pout as he pathetically pushes at Eric’s arm.

“Shut up, Eric,” he whines. 

After that, things go a little more back to normal, and Harry stops feeling quite as nervous to be around Eric as he was this morning. Eric flits between teasing Harry, about everything from his sharkies to how the lump on his head is so big it’s like a second head, and checking over him, getting up whenever Harry needs anything at all, and making sure he takes his tablets every four hours. Whenever Eric gets up to get something for him, Eric’s dogs try to take his place on the sofa, and Eric has to shoo them away and tell them off when he comes back in. At one point, he even chides Harry: “You know, they’re not allowed on here. You’re being too nice to them.” 

Harry just shrugs and grins.

“I’m too nice.”

Eric rolls his eyes. 

“Yes you are.”

\--

Spongebob is still on in the background, but it’s long forgotten about. 

Eric had asked Harry about his family, and Harry had gotten so caught up in telling Eric absolutely everything about them that he didn’t realise he’d been monologuing for almost an hour, telling Eric about his Sunday dinners, and about how much he loves his mum and his sister and his grandma, and interrupting himself to go on tangents with little funny stories about what his family get up to. He feels like he should be embarrassed that he talked for so long, but Eric is smiling at him and encouraging him to carry on, even bringing him a blanket and another cup of tea when Winks starts to shiver. Harry carries on, talking a little more and telling Eric about some of his really great family holidays, until Eric eventually has to get up and go and make dinner. Eric tells him that he hopes Harry isn’t done, and Harry smiles to himself. Eric is being so  _ so _ nice. He wraps the blanket a little tighter around himself and settles into the sofa cushions.

While Eric is in the kitchen, Harry replies to some of the texts he received. He tells his mum that he will FaceTime her tomorrow, and that he’s fine and he’s with Eric, and he studiously ignores her teasing reply about making sure his boyfriend takes care of him. He replies to Harry Kane (he will  _ never  _ let anyone know that he refers to him as Big Harry and himself as Little Harry in his own head) assuring him that he’s fine, and smiles to himself because Harry put a little “x” at the end of the text. He obviously responds in kind, putting at least four, then he replies to Dele too, teasing him a little because his Snapmap shows that he’s at Harry’s. Dele responds almost immediately.

_ ok lol u want me 2 bring up where u are now? n what u was saying to him in hospital? _

_ dangerous game baby winks _

Harry blushes and quickly types out a response. 

**no lol...i didnt mean it!!! love u xxxxxxxx**

_ thought so  _

_ u too. I guess. hope u feel better winks xx _

Harry leaves Dele’s reply at that, because as he’s about to respond, Eric walks back into the room with a bowl of spaghetti. Harry tries valiantly to eat as much as he can, and keeps laughing as he has to push Cisco’s nose away. Eric whistles, gives Cisco a look, and points over at the rug on the other side of the room. Cisco trots away and goes to sit with Clay, looking a little moody about not being able to have any of Harry’s pasta. Eric rolls his eyes and tells him to be more like his brother, and Harry giggles at how Eric is treating them like they’re unruly children. Eric looks back at him and his expression softens from the faux irritation he had been putting on for the benefit of the dogs.

“He really likes you,” Eric says with a smile. “He’s hard to impress too. You must be special.” 

Harry feels himself go warm all over. He certainly feels special. Eric has been so lovely to him all day, and if Harry wasn’t already a little in love with him, he would be now. 

Eric asks him a little more about his family, but Harry finds he’s getting more and more sleepy with every passing minute. He’s a little confused, since it’s only 8pm and  _ how is he this tired?  _ but Eric seems to read his mind again, informing him that after head injuries you tend to need a lot more rest and sleep for days, even weeks after. 

Harry carries on with his story about his camping trip to Lake Garda, but he’s hit with a solid wave of exhaustion at around 8:25 and he stops dead in the middle of his story.

“Where’s the spare room?” he asks sleepily. He doesn’t want to take Eric’s bed again and put him out any more than he already is. 

Eric shifts, looking a little uncomfortable. He shrugs, helping Harry up.

“It’s actually, uh,” he says a little awkwardly. “It’s being renovated at the minute. But you’re sleeping in my room. I’ll take the couch.” 

Harry, confused, takes a minute to process it. Just as he’s opening his mouth to offer to take the couch instead, Eric opens the bedroom door and ushers him in.

“Do you need some water or anything?”

Harry nods. 

“Yes please,” he says, thinking back to how dry his mouth was when he woke up that morning. Eric goes to fetch him a glass, and as he’s gone, Harry thinks about what has just transpired. 

Eric is letting him sleep in his bed and he’s taking the couch. Not only that, but Eric turned down Dele and Harry’s offers for him to stay at their houses, knowing full well his own spare room was out of commission. He tries to figure out why Eric would do that.

_ Because he’s nice, _ his brain answers.  _ Because he wanted to look after you that badly.  _

He blushes at the thought, and gets into bed, pulling Eric’s covers over his legs. 

Eric comes back in the room, placing the glass carefully on the bedside table. 

“Thank you,” Harry says. He tries to put all of his thank yous into that one, tries to make it clear he’s not just talking about the water, but that he’s talking about letting him stay, and being so nice. He’s not sure Eric understands, but Eric does smile softly. It’s the most tender and simple smile Harry has ever seen on Eric’s face, and it makes his heart do a little leap in his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Eric pats his head incredibly gently. “Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry snuggles further into the duvet.

“Goodnight, Eric.”

Eric leaves the room quietly, and Harry can’t stop smiling, even as he’s trying to sleep. He likes Eric so much. And he’s starting to wonder if just maybe Eric likes him too. 


	2. Chapter 2

Eric is kissing him. He presses a kiss to his forehead, then to his cheek, then he finally,  _ finally  _ kisses him properly, brushing his lips against Harry’s own. Harry hears himself sigh happily as he kisses Eric back, then whine when Eric pulls away. He starts kissing his cheek again, then he licks it. Harry isn’t too sure if he likes that, but then Eric does it again, and licks his ear. He’s pretty certain he doesn’t like that, and when he hears a voice telling Eric to “shoo!” he sort of agrees with them. It’s only when the voice, which actually sounds a lot like Eric, then says “bad dog!” that Harry stirs, and opens his eyes blearily. 

He looks up to see Eric looking at him apologetically, holding Cisco back by his collar.

“Sorry about him Winksy,” he says quietly, “I was coming in to wake you up, though. You’ve been asleep for like fourteen hours.”

Harry stretches, putting the pieces together in his head. He can’t pretend that he isn’t disappointed that he didn’t actually kiss Eric and that it was all just a dream. He is a little relieved though, that it was Cisco licking his ear and not Eric. 

“H has been nagging me all morning,” Eric continues, rolling his eyes. “Sending me articles about concussions and asking how you are. He’s a nightmare.” 

Harry smiles. He loves how much his teammates all want to take care of him. It doesn’t hurt that it’s Harry Kane who’s acting so fatherly and caring, since Harry’s always had a bit of a fanboy crush on him. 

“He’s like my dad,” Harry says sleepily, then blushes a little, regretting the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth. 

Eric just laughs, and holds a hand out so that he can help Harry get out of bed. Harry takes it, and doesn’t let go even as Eric leads him out of the bedroom and into the living room. He’s trying his hardest not to think about it too much, but that doesn’t really work, and his brain keeps just screaming at him, shouting that  _ he’s holding Eric’s hand _ , that  _ Eric is holding his hand _ , that  _ they’re holding hands  _ because this is a bit of a momentous occasion. 

He tries not to let his disappointment show when Eric lets go of his hand and makes his way into the kitchen to make Harry something to eat. He picks up the TV remote again, and flicks through the channels for a bit. He sort of wants to find something really clever and grown-up to watch, just so that Eric doesn’t think that all he watches is Spongebob, but as he’s flicking through he sees The Office is on, and he can’t resist putting it on. He tells himself that it’s much more grown-up than Spongebob, even if it’s not exactly a documentary or anything. He loves this episode, too, because it’s one of the funniest and it’s set at Christmas too, Harry’s favourite holiday, but when Meredith screams, insisting that she’s not going to rehab, the scream sort of pierces through his sensitive head and he’s reminded of how much his head is hurting today. 

It somehow feels even worse than yesterday, and he’s incredibly relieved when Eric comes in to the room brandishing another set of painkillers. Harry reaches out for them and swallows them before he even glances at what else Eric has brought into the room with him.

A cup of tea, a glass of apple juice, and then, balanced on top, a plate with two pieces of toast with nutella and sliced banana. 

Harry smiles widely as Eric sets it down.

“This is my favourite,” Harry grins. “How did you know?”

Eric sits down and doesn’t say anything, uncharacteristically a little quiet. He avoids Harry’s eyes as he mumbles: “Oh, Dele told me.” Harry ponders that for a second, wonders how that even came up, and wonders if maybe Eric actually asked Dele, but just as he’s thinking of how to pose the question, Eric looks at the TV and changes the subject.

“Oh, I love this one,” Eric says, pointing at the next episode that has just started. “Dwight’s a dick, isn’t he?” 

Harry shrugs. 

“I think he’s funny.”

They fall into companionable silence for a while, the only noises being the TV and their occasional laughter, but still Harry’s head is banging. He feels so sorry for himself. He’s a little cold, his head is hurting like hell, and he has woken up feeling a little needy for affection after his dream. He keeps watching the TV, but then as Jim and Pam hug on screen he realises how much he wants Eric to hug him too. Once he’s thought it, he can’t stop thinking it, and he starts to actually feel a little cold and uncomfortable. He’s sure that most of it is in his head, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking it. He looks longingly over at Eric. He looks so warm. So soft. So comfortable. He wishes he could cuddle up to him. 

He’s sure Eric catches him looking at least once, but he can’t bring himself to care. He can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to hug him, and finally he’s so irritated with himself for not being able to let it go that he just does it. He shuffles over quickly, and rests his head on Eric’s shoulder. He feels a little better as soon as he’s done it.  _ God,  _ he thinks to himself with a sigh,  _ that’s the most pathetic thing you’ve ever thought. _

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, and he worries for a second that Eric might be uncomfortable, that Eric might want to shrug him off. Eric doesn’t reply, and it just makes Harry more worried to the point that he’s about to pull away. Just as he goes to move, though, he feels Eric shift, moving his arm so that he can loop it around Harry’s back. 

Harry bites his lip a little and sighs shakily, settling into Eric’s hold on him. He tries his best to focus on the TV and not focus on the fact that he’s cuddling Eric on his sofa right now. He sort of wants to say something and start a conversation, just to make sure that this is real and this is normal and that everything is fine.

It’s a relief when Eric does it for him.

“Hey, Winks,” Eric taps his waist to get his attention, sending a little thrill up his spine. “Is it okay if Harry and Dele come to visit today? They just keep going on about you and how worried they are. Would be nice to get them off my back.”

Eric rolls his eyes, looking moody, but Harry can tell he doesn’t mean it really. He used to be a little intimidated by Eric, before he even fancied him, because he just seemed a little mean and grumpy all the time. He’s not sure when exactly he realised that all of it was a bit of a front. He’s just known it for a while now, that if you looked closely enough you’d see that Eric isn’t moody or grumpy at all. It’s all evident in the little things: the way Eric smiles to himself when he thinks no one is looking, the way he waves at random babies in the streets, looking delighted if they wave back, or the way that even when he’s acting moody, if you press him enough he’ll give you one of those slow, warm smiles.  

“Yeah, I’d love to see them,” he answers with a grin. 

He loves Dele and Harry, and he knows that they’ll both give him big hugs and they’ll both probably bring him things, because they always do, and he thinks it’s just so lovely that they’re worried enough about him to care. 

“Are you sure?” Eric asks, looking down at Harry. “Because if you’re too tired or anything you really don’t have to.”

Harry shakes his head.

“I’m fine, really,” he smiles wider. “I’d love to see them!”

Eric stares at him for a second, assessing him, then nods.

“Okay, good. I’ll tell them they can come on their way back from the shops.”

He looks at his phone, clearly sending off a text to either Harry or Dele. While Eric is doing that, Harry starts to smile to himself, thinking about how Dele and Harry are at the shops together, and are probably going home together  _ again.  _ He can’t believe they’re not dating yet. That they haven’t even kissed yet. They’re practically married, for god’s sake. He can’t wait to grill Dele all about it later, and he can’t help his smile from widening as he thinks about it.

“Hey, Winks,” Eric says, and he’s smirking. “Can I tell H he’s your daddy, then?”

Harry’s smile rapidly fades, and he can feel his cheeks heating up. He sits upright in Eric’s grip and hits at his chest.

“I never said that! You know I didn’t!” 

Eric laughs and tries to cuddle back up to Harry, but Harry whines and pushes him away. He can’t  _ believe  _ that Eric just said that. He’s so embarrassed. It doesn’t help that he had a dream once about Harry and it was like  _ that,  _ and he couldn’t look him in the eyes in training for about a month after. And it certainly doesn’t help that for the past month or so, whenever he’s been fantasising about Eric, the word “daddy” passes through his mind, leaving him bright red and ashamed when he’s finished. 

He sulks for a little while longer, not letting Eric pull him back in, and Eric just keeps grinning at him. Harry would normally love to see Eric so happy and smiley, but he finds himself wishing that he would go all moody again and stop being so annoying. 

Eric takes pity on him.

“I was joking, babe,” Eric says, still smiling and rolling his eyes. “They’ll both be here in like five minutes so you should probably stop sulking.” 

Harry feels like he has a mini heart attack when Eric calls him babe, even though it’s not really that big of a deal. Eric always jokingly calls people babe, especially when he’s being a little condescending or teasing. He’s never done it to Harry before though, only to Dele and Tripps and on one memorable occasion, Harry Kane, who had immediately told Eric that he’s not his  _ babe,  _ smacking his head. Eric had let it happen, but Winks is sure that if anyone else had tried to smack him, it wouldn’t have gone as well. It was actually sort of hot. Come to think of it, that was the night Harry had had that dream about the other Harry. That realisation does a lot to calm his nerves, since it somehow seems a little less embarrassing, and makes a lot of sense. It makes sense that even if he’s fantasising about someone else, Eric has to be involved one way or another. 

“I’m not sulking,” he says with a pout. “I’m fine now.”

Eric grins down at him, and holds his arm out again. 

Harry waits all of ten seconds before he leans forward and lets Eric wrap his arms around him again. He rests his head on Eric’s chest and feels his heart flutter a little when Eric rubs little circles on his waist with his thumb. He wonders if they’re going to stay like this when Harry and Dele get here, and he blushes a little. Surely they can’t. Dele would tease him so much. 

There’s a buzzing noise, and Harry realises that Eric has to get up to let the pair of them in anyway. He’s a little disappointed, but he’s mostly relieved that he won’t get caught in the act. Even though he knows hugging isn’t exactly the worst thing he could be caught doing, he knows that Dele would never let him hear the end of it. 

Eric lets go of him and stands up to buzz them in. Harry sits up a little and straightens himself up, brushing his jumper down and running his fingers through his hair. He feels a little silly about trying to make himself look good for Harry and Dele, especially when Eric gives him a knowing look, but he takes a sip of his juice and tries to ignore it. 

Dele is the first to walk in, grinning from ear to ear when he spots Harry on the sofa.

“Baby Winks!” 

Dele skips over to him, holding his arms out expectantly, and Harry stands up so that he can hug him. Dele gives great hugs. They’re always so tight and warm and he always,  _ always _ strokes Harry’s hair. He loves it so much. He closes his eyes and lets Dele squeeze him tightly.

Dele lets go of him only for him to be enveloped in a hug from Harry - Big Harry - too. Harry’s hugs are just as good as Dele’s, just as warm and comforting and nice. And while Dele always strokes his hair, Harry always does this little thing where he squeezes his side. 

He thinks to himself that he probably reads too much into their hugs, that Dele and Harry probably don’t think about them at all, that he’s probably a little too obsessed with their friendship. But he shakes his head a little against Harry’s chest to banish the thought from his head, and just lets Harry pull back and start fussing over him, sitting him down and making sure he’s comfortable. 

Dele is chatting to Eric, but he keeps looking over at the pair of Harrys and smiling, especially when Harry starts emptying out a little bag of stuff he got for Winks. He explains how the little gel pack works, how it moulds to his head and targets all the areas of pain, and places a few more boxes of painkillers on Eric’s coffee table, before he pulls out a few boxes of tea bags too.

“They’re herbal, Winksy,” Harry explains, “All my favourite flavours. They should keep you nice and healthy, make you feel better.” 

Dele ambles over and picks up one of the boxes.

“Camomile?” he sets that one down and picks up another. “Green tea?” he grins. “Harry Edward Boring Kane strikes again.”

The Harry in question rolls his eyes and elbows Dele in the ribs, but he’s smiling to himself, and when Dele and Harry look at each other both of their smiles grow. It looks like they forget Eric and Harry are even there, especially when Dele assures Harry that he didn’t mean it, grinning up at him and leaning into him a little. They both carry on smiling at each other softly until Eric finally clears his throat, and Harry looks at him questioningly. Dele on the other hand turns to look at Winks, blushing with a wide grin on his face. While Eric and Harry go into the kitchen with a couple of grocery bags, Dele throws himself on the sofa next to Harry.

“You look happy,” Harry grins. “I can’t believe how cute you two are!”

“Enough of that,” Dele laughs, “What about you and Diet?! How’s it going? He kissed you yet? Did you share a bed? Has he cured you with his magical healing cock?” 

Winks hits him on the arm, redness tinting his cheeks.

“Shut up, Del,” he whines, “He’s been so nice. Oh my god, guess what?” He lets his voice drop to a whisper. “We were both cuddling on the sofa before you guys came!” 

Dele reaches up and ruffles his hair excitedly. Harry doesn’t have the heart to tell him it hurts a little, so he just carries on smiling and ignores it. 

“Awwww, Winksy! That’s adorable.” 

Harry looks around furtively, checking that Eric and Harry are still occupied, before he leans in even closer to Dele and starts grilling him.

“So you two really aren’t together? You must be like, living with him at this point!”

“We’re just friends,” Dele says with a shrug, but he looks over to the kitchen a little longingly. Harry’s in there, still chatting to Eric, but he must feel Dele’s eyes on him, because he turns around to meet his eyes. Dele doesn’t look sorry at getting caught, just smiles over at Harry and waves. 

From the sofa, Harry tries to hold in a giggle. Dele would be furious if he knew just how lame he looked doing that. He goes to say something, but then Eric and Harry are walking back into the room, so he stops. He smiles at both of them as they walk into the room, and grins a little wider when Eric moves Dele out of the way so he can sit next to him. 

Dele scoffs, but he doesn’t look too perturbed about having to go to sit in the armchair with Harry. He perches himself on the arm of the chair, but Winks watches out of the corner of his eye as Dele and Harry have a quiet, secret conversation, and then he grins to himself so widely that it hurts when he turns back around to see Dele sat in Harry’s lap. 

Dele gives him a look, daring him to say anything and warning him against being obvious, but he just grins over at him, carefree and just so, so happy for him. He can’t wait for them to finally get together and to just be happy. 

They all start chatting, about the next few fixtures and Winks and about what Dele and Harry went shopping for today. Dele even pulls out a big bag of sweets that he forgot he had bought for him, and as he leans out of Harry’s lap to grab them, Harry eyes him disapprovingly, as does Eric. They both grumble a little about how he really shouldn’t eat too many of those, and Dele rolls his eyes over at him. “ _ Boring, _ ” he mouths to him. “ _ Boring grown-ups _ .” Harry bites back a smile, because he’s actually sort of right. But he loves them anyway.

As they’re chatting, Harry finds out that Jan got a red card for retaliating against Ramos for the way he shoved Winks to the ground, and also finds out that Poch has been asking after him, even calling him a “talented boy.” Safe to say, he’s sort of over the moon. 

The warm, fuzzy feeling only intensifies every time H asks him if he’s okay, asks him how he is, asks him how he’s feeling. And it hits a crescendo when, on the fifth time he’s asked, Eric groans and throws an arm around his waist.

“He’s fine, H. He’s fine here with me. I’m taking care of him. Okay?”

Harry smiles and nods, looking satisfied, and stops asking. Winks has an inkling that Harry had just been trying to get Eric to say exactly that, and it makes him look at Dele a little suspiciously. Dele just eyes him innocently, but he’s not convinced. 

It’s only a short while after that Dele and Harry are leaving, saying their goodbyes and hugging Winks tightly again, telling him how nice it was to see him and how they really hope he gets better soon. 

As soon as they leave, Harry realises just how tired and drained he is, and while Eric heats him up some leftover pasta, Harry keeps closing his eyes and his head keeps rolling back against the sofa cushions. 

Eric brings in his pasta, a camomile tea and some more tablets, and shakes him a little to wake him up.

“Hey, Winksy,” he says quietly. “Try and eat a little of this pasta and have your tablets, then we can get you to bed. Okay?”

Harry nods pathetically and leans forward so that Eric can sit next to him and put an arm around his back. He leans against Eric even as he sips at the tea and picks at his pasta.

He eats as much of it as he can, and then Eric even lets him have a couple of the fizzy belt sweets that Dele had brought him. He can’t even eat too many of them, though. He doesn’t know why but he thinks the concussion has messed with his appetite a little. 

When he’s eaten all he can, he rests his head back on Eric’s chest and snuggles back into him, sighing contentedly when Eric tightens his hold around him. 

He must drift off, because he opens his eyes to find Eric shaking him a little and coaxing him up off the sofa. He tries to walk Harry over to his own bedroom again, but Harry blearily opens his eyes, yawns and stops him.

“No,” he says quietly. “I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’s your bed.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa, Winks.”

He tightens his grip on Harry’s wrists and tries to push him a little more forcefully, but Harry stands his ground even through his sleepiness.

“Well I’m not letting you, either. I know your back is bad.” 

Eric stares at him, and Harry shrugs. His heart is racing. He’s praying to every god that he knows, every god he’s ever heard of, that Eric suggests they share the bed. He’d do it himself, but he’s far too scared. How do you ask for something that you want more than anything in the world? 

Eric looks at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking, then he finally breaks eye contact and sighs. 

“Okay,” he says resignedly, then he releases Harry’s wrists. Harry’s heart sinks as he thinks he’s going to make him sleep on the couch, but Eric is only releasing him so that he can hold his hand. “Let’s go to bed.” 

Eric leads him, hand in hand, to his room, then he lets him go so that he can climb into bed. Harry hesitates nervously, but eventually climbs in beside him. He stares at Eric, watching him as he turns off the lights. His head is swimming. He’s in bed with Eric. He’s in Eric’s bed.  _ With Eric _ . He wants so badly to cuddle up to him, but he worries that he’s already been so obvious already. He feels like he all but begged Eric to sleep with him, and he feels a little pathetic already. 

Eric sighs again, then shifts closer to Harry, and slings a warm, comforting arm around his waist. Harry snuggles into him gratefully, hoping that the little whine he let out was imperceptible. He clutches Eric’s t-shirt in his hands, and rests his forehead on Eric’s chest.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, words muffled by Eric’s t-shirt. “You’re being so nice to me. You’re lovely.” 

Eric laughs a little, and Harry can’t bring himself to regret embarrassing himself when it elicits such a nice noise from Eric.

“Yeah,” he replies. “You told me that at the hospital. Out loud, too. Not just in your head.” 

He flicks Harry on the nose teasingly, and Harry whines, burying his face in his chest to get away from his hand. He doesn’t really know how to respond, he’s so sleepy and he’s embarrassed, and he only half remembers it in the first place, so he just stays quiet and savours the way that Eric pulls him in that little bit closer. 

He feels himself drifting off, and just before he goes to sleep, Eric says one last thing.

“You’re lovely too, Harry.”

Harry smiles and lets sleep take him.

\--

Harry dreams about Eric kissing him again, and this time he doesn’t dream about Eric licking his ear, and he doesn’t wake up with dog saliva all over him. This time, he wakes up to find that he’s still wrapped around Eric like a python. Eric is clearly awake, too, laughing quietly at something on his phone, his chest moving Harry’s head slightly with the motion of laughter. Harry feels absolutely infatuated, so in love, and he just wants to live in this moment forever. He pretends to be asleep for as long as he possibly can, but eventually he has to get up. 

Eric smiles at him as he makes a big show of rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” 

Harry looks at him and smiles back at him. His smile only grows when Eric tells him that he actually needs to run a few errands today, but didn’t want Winks to wake up alone. He thinks, for maybe the sixth time over the past two days, about just how lovely Eric is. He’s so sleepy and a little emotional that he can’t even hide his big smile at the revelation, and he also can’t keep himself from staring at Eric’s lips. They’re so pink, and they look so nice stretched out into a big smile like that.

Eric gets up, and starts listing the different foods he has in for breakfast, before asking Harry if he wants anything.

Unfortunately, just as Harry is about to ask for a drink, Eric bites his lip, and, in his lovesick confusion, he looks up at Eric with a happy little grin and asks him: “Could I please have a kiss?” 

There’s a split second of silence, Eric staring at him, before Harry realises exactly what he’s done, and his face drops, burning up faster than Ben Davies in the sun, and he’s rushing to correct himself.

“A drink,” he blurts. “Oh god, a drink. I meant please could I have a drink. I’m so sorry.”

Eric shushes him, laughing a little, but even he’s blushing as he leaves the room to get Harry a drink and something to eat. Harry can’t believe how mortified he is, and he immediately pulls out his phone to text Dele.

**dele omg i just asked eric 4 a kiss …. i meant a drink omg im so embarrassed**

**he just laughed n left the room but omg….dele i cant beleve i did that :(((( xxxxx**

He waits for a second but the messages don’t show up as delivered, so he assumes Dele’s phone must have ran out again. He sighs and turns the phone face down on the bed, thinking to himself that Dele will just respond whenever he gets some more charge. God, he’s so embarrassed. He can’t believe he just did that, just looked at Eric and asked him for a kiss.

He can’t really look Eric in the eyes even as Eric brings him breakfast and gets himself ready around him, and he certainly can’t look at Eric when he pulls his shirt off to change into a big oversized jumper. He’s more than a little relieved when Eric hesitates, then takes a spare change of trousers and underwear into the bathroom with him. He’s certain that seeing Eric drop his underwear down to his ankles would end up in a situation where Harry would be left horrendously embarrassed. 

When Eric emerges out of the bathroom, thankfully fully clothed, he chats to Harry a little, asking him how he slept and if he needs anything, before he tells Harry very seriously and sincerely that he only needs to send him a text or give him a call if he needs absolutely anything. He hugs Harry as he’s leaving, and Harry smiles into it. Eric is a great hugger too, he thinks. Just as good as Dele and Harry. Better. He puts his whole body into the hug, and it feels like nothing could hurt Harry as long as he’s wrapped up in Eric’s arms. He feels safe.

As soon as Eric leaves, yelling at Cisco and Clay to be good and look after the invalid, Cisco jumps on the bed. Harry giggles, knowing how mad Eric would be, and he strokes Cisco and gives him a little cuddle before he pulls out his phone again. He figures he’ll use the time while Eric is out to finally FaceTime his mum and assure her that he’s okay. 

He chats with his mum for a couple of hours, and she hands the phone around to his dad, his grandma, and even his little sister Millie, who tells him over and over again that he’s got a lump on his head, finding it absolutely hilarious. He lets her have her fun, but he’s secretly a little self-conscious, and keeps trying to surreptitiously check it in the mirror across the room. 

He’s only just off the phone when he hears the front door open, and he hurriedly shoos Cisco off the bed, knowing that he will only get in trouble if Eric walks in and sees that Harry let him stay on the bed.

“Hey, Winks,” Eric says, striding into the room with a couple of bags. Harry inhales, smelling the strong smell of spices and eyeing up the bags. “Takeaway,” Eric says in explanation, then empties the other bag in Harry’s lap. Four DVDs fall out - Moana, Tangled, Inside Out and Monsters Inc. “Didn’t know which one you’d like, so just got all the Disney stuff I saw.”

Harry lights up.

“My favourites! I love Moana!”

“Put that one on, then,” Eric suggests, nodding towards his laptop. Harry nods, then fiddles with Eric’s laptop to put Moana on while Eric arranges their Chinese takeaway onto two big plates, putting a little of everything on both. 

They settle back against the headboard when they’re both ready, and Harry eats more than he has for a while. He’s a little surprised, actually, by how much he’s managing to put away. His appetite has come back with a vengeance, and before Maui is even introduced, he’s having to go back for seconds.

He keeps singing under his breath, and Eric eventually tells him to just sing out loud, that it’s fine, but Harry is too embarrassed. That is, until “You’re Welcome” comes on, and Eric rolls his eyes and sings along loudly, giving Harry the confidence to do the same. After that, Harry sings loudly and happily to every song, Eric even giving him a little impressed look at his rendition of “How Far I’ll Go.” 

He’s really having the best time ever, so when the film ends, he’s a little sad. 

However, Eric just looks at him expectantly and asks him what he wants to watch next. 

Harry happily suggests Tangled, and Eric goes to change the discs before he realises he needs to charge his laptop up, and asks Harry if they can use his instead. Harry’s more than happy to agree to that, and they switch laptops and start the next film up, and Eric brings his big bag of sweets from Dele over too, making Harry grin at him widely.

Harry sings along throughout too, but he does start to get more and more tired, and his head is starting to hurt just a little bit. Eric puts his arm around him again, and Harry turns ever so slightly in his grip so that he’s only really watching the film with one eye.

It’s nearly at the end of the movie that something happens that makes his blood run cold.

It’s Dele.

Dele has finally replied, and the message flashes up at the top of the screen, for Harry and Eric to see.

_ omg winks u should of kissed him _

_ if u tell diet u like him ill tell harry i like him too lol xx _

Harry has no idea what to do. He bites his lip and closes his eyes and just prays to god that Eric wasn’t paying attention, but he knows that he  _ was  _ and he has no idea what to say, no idea how to react. Fuck fuck fuck. There’s absolutely no getting around this. Eric has just seen that Harry likes him, that Harry likes him enough to gossip to Dele about it, that he told Dele he wanted to kiss him. He wants the bed to simply swallow him up, and he doesn’t open his eyes even when Rapunzel and Flynn have their happy little ending, even though it’s his favourite part.

He wonders if he can pretend he’s sleeping, but he knows it’s not believable enough, and when Eric quietly says his name, he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. He still doesn’t have the courage to look at Eric, though, and just stares straight ahead at the computer, eyes focusing on that little offending message notification.

“Winks,” Eric says again, rubbing his hip bone with his thumb carefully. “Hey,” he lifts his other hand up to Harry’s chin, and tilts his head up. “Harry, look at me.”

Harry finally swallows and meets Eric’s eyes. Eric is looking at him meaningfully, holding his head in his hands. 

“You like me?”

Harry blushes bright red and tries to look back down again, tries to shuffle out of Eric’s grip, but Eric tuts and gently tilts Harry’s head back up again. 

He doesn’t know how to say it, so he just nods pathetically, then bites his lip and shuts his eyes briefly. 

He feels Eric move closer to him, and his eyes open in abject shock when he feels Eric’s lips against his own. He hears a little whine, is sure that it’s himself, then he moves his lips against Eric’s, definitely whining now that Eric is softly licking his lips and pulling away.

“I like you too, Harry.”

Harry stares at him in disbelief, and Eric smiles, shaking his head before he leans in to kiss him again. Harry kisses back him desperately, but Eric keeps it slow and chaste. He pulls back to kiss his cheek, his forehead, his nose, and only pecking at his lips before he just lies back and smiles at him.

Harry goes to kiss him again, but Eric pulls back.

“Hey, you need you rest,” he chides him, and Harry looks at him a little lost. 

It’s true, he needs to sleep and he’s tired, but he’s just so worried that he will wake up and it will all be different, that this is a one time offer. Eric looks at him again like he knows exactly what he’s thinking, and Harry thinks to himself that maybe his initial theory about Eric being a mind reader wasn’t too ridiculous after all, before Eric starts to talk again. 

“I’ll still be here in the morning,” he assures Harry. “And I’ll still like you. I promise.”

Harry smiles, can’t stop smiling, and he settles down, letting Eric drag him down so that he’s lying on top of him. He rests his hand on Eric’s chest, just above his heart, and Eric’s hands find their way into his hair.

Eric strokes his hair to help him drift to sleep, and Harry is so content he can barely believe it.

Eric likes him.

Eric kissed him and he likes him and he’s cuddling him and stroking his hair.

As Eric is stroking his hair, he ponders how he got here, thinks about his concussion and how much only an hour ago his head was hurting and how exhausted he was. 

_ Huh,  _ he thinks to himself with a smile, letting sleep take hold of him.

His head isn’t even hurting anymore. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked this!! I love Eric/Winks so much and just couldn't help but have Dele and Harry be a little in love too. Please let me know what you think!!! xx


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